


20 + 1

by Trekkele



Category: Star Trek, Star Trek: Alternate Original Series (Movies), Star Trek: Enterprise
Genre: Amanda Grayson Lives, Based on a Tumblr Post, Gen, Mentions of genocide, My Tumblr Post, Post-Star Trek (2009), Smart James T. Kirk, overworked admirals
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-12-05
Updated: 2018-12-05
Packaged: 2019-09-12 08:44:12
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 15
Words: 9,807
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16869802
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Trekkele/pseuds/Trekkele
Summary: Stories About Jim Receiving the Enterprise:a collection of drabbles, scenes, and headcanons about what happened when the admiralty offered the StarFleet Flagship to a cadet, and beyond. Based on my tumblr post.





	1. 1-

**Author's Note:**

> when I wrote these headcanons I was super excited because 21 people wanted to listen to me yell about Star Trek on tumblr, and decided it would be cool to write the stories to go with it. Its almost seven months later and I'm done. I think.  
> the original post is here:  
> https://trekkele.tumblr.com/post/174795321868/20-1-headcanons-about-jim-receiving-the
> 
> some headcanons/drabbles go together, so they're in one chapter.

_He tried to refuse it at first. Admiral Archer finally threatened him with a court martial if he did so. Shocked, he accepted it._

 

Kirk refuses the Enterprise.   
  
Even though it’s basically a formality at this point, debated and shouted over and ripped apart by several Admirals, no one expected him to _refuse_ it.

The fact that they’re even offering it to him sometimes makes Archer wonder what the hell StarFleet has become, but at the same time he _knows_ that the kid deserves it, that somehow he’ll end up being the best damn Captain StarFleet has ever seen.

Don’t ask him how he knows this. Let an old man have his secrets.

 

(He just does. He knows it the same way he knew he could trust T’pol, even though it took him years to show it. He knows it the same way he knows Phlox will never retire, and that Trip regrets lost time, and the way he knows time travel will never be worth the trouble it causes. He _knows_.)

 

But than Kirk- _Jim-_ refuses it the first time they offer to to him, and then the second.

  
He does it politely of course. Turns out the kid can play politics like a true StarFleet legacy, and Chris is only marginally less shocked than he is. But it still boils down to the fact that Jim _refuses_ the _Enterprise_ .   
The flagship. The cocky son-of-a-b- _Winona_ that no one thought would make it through the academy at all is refusing the _fucking_ flagship.   
They’re all so shocked that he forgives them for not asking why. Until they finally do.   
  
“It is unprecedented to assign a new graduate to Captain a starship”. Jim says, his tone flat and even and his eyes are the only thing that Jon can read. He’s standing at parade rest with his head held high, every inch of him screaming professionalism, but his eyes? Jon has never seen that much regret, and anger, and disbelief packed into this boys eyes. And that’s saying something.   
  
“ _Yes,_ but the situation is unprecedented.”

 _“Yes,_ but you have proven your capabilities.”

“ _Yes,_ but every crewmember wishes to serve with you.”   
“ _Yes,_ but _why_ ?”   
  
“Because I do not wish to be given something I did not earn.“ Jon has seen Captains come and go and he’s seen plenty of great men let pride be their downfall. A few years ago he might have thought Jim Kirk would be another one of them. But now all he wants is to find a way, some way, _any way_ , to convince this _impossible_ Captain to accept his position with the same grace he’s shown in refusing it.

He would be lying if he said it was purely for StarFleet’s benefit. A part of him knows Jim is going to tear up the sky, and he doesn’t want to miss this chance to see it.  
  
“Yes, _but you earned it.”_   
  
“I simply did what I was trained to do. I did what was necessary in my duty to StarFleet, and now I wish to earn a captaincy as any member of StarFleet would.“  
All repetitions, all variations of the same theme. Its times like these Jon wishes he had been more present in this kids life. Because he knows what buttons to push, sure, but he doesn’t know how to get the answer he wants.

 

“Yes, but the admiralty believes you have earned it!” The admiralty, the public, the federation president, everyone up to and including the Vulcan Ambassadors. Except, is seems, for James T. Kirk.  
  
“Did I?”   
  
He accepts in the end.  Not because he changes his mind. Not because he finally finally thinks he deserves it. But because at its heart StarFleet is still a military organization and the only way to avoid the order is to resign.   
And he won’t do that.

 

Jon feels sorry for him, faced with a position he doesn’t want, or leaving the career he’s come to love, but he knows the rest of the admiralty is getting impatient, and there’s only so many times they’ll take no as an answer.  
So he pulls the kid into his office, gives a stern lecture on the importance of the chain of command, on having people who deserve power in the position to use it, on how StarFleet needs men like him on the front lines. And how he will either accept his command as Captain of the Enterprise or face a court martial offence for refusing orders.

 

He shifts uncomfortably, Kirk’s piercing gaze reminding him of T’Pol’s when she found him ridiculous and almost sighs in relief when the kid smirks. “Not leaving me much of a choice, are you, Uncle Archie?”

 

He smiles at the rarely used nickname and shakes his head. “Sometimes letting you have too much of a choice is a bad thing, kid. You’re self destructive like that.”

  
They laugh, and Jon hopes that someday the kid realizes that he really did deserve this. _Eventually_ he knows he will. He just hopes they’ll both be there too see it.


	2. 2-3-

_The entire crew from the Narada Incident requested to be stationed with him. Not the Enterprise. Captain Kirk._

 

Normally, graduating cadets were stationed according to ability, availability, and, for the top 15% of the graduating class, according to who got their claws in first.

 

Normally. _Normally_

 

However, normal went out the window sometime after Vulcan became space dust and an insane Romulan decided to become a planet killer. So, normal wasn't in the agenda this semester.

Of course, they always gave cadets the opportunity to request a specific posting, but they never guaranteed anyone would receive it.

 

And then the requests started coming in.

 

The fact that Kirk was getting the Enterprise wasn't public knowledge. Chris knew, a handful of the admiralty knew, and the federation president knew. And yet Admiral Nogura, who usually helped Chris with assignments and was trying to start them on his own for now, stormed into his office with what amounted to awe, when you got past the outrage and the confusion and the sheer _WTFuckery_ that had defined the last few weeks, honestly.

 

“They all want him!”

 

“Hello Admiral, I’m so glad to see you have time to visit me, would you like some coffee, sit down, please, tell me how're the assignments going.” Jon deadpanned, hoping to distract Nogura from whatever crisis had hit them now.

 

Nogura stared at him blankly for a minute, and then thunked a stack of padds onto his desk.

 

“All of them Jon. Every one of those Cadets are asking to serve under Captain Kirk. Not the Enterprise. Not Pike, or their training cruise captains, but Captain Kirk.”

 

Archer stared at him, and than at the padds. “All of them?”

 

“Well. about 75% asked for Captain Kirk. The other 25% asked for Acting Captain Kirk. An important distinction, I’m sure.” He smirked at Jon and dropped into one of his sinfully comfortable office chairs. Perks of being old, he always said.

 

He eyed the stack of padds. “How long did it take them to get back on impulse engines?”

 

“Two weeks.”

 

“Two weeks?!” That was barely enough to time to get the shift schedule in order.

 

“Two weeks. And they all want him.”

 

“Damn.”

_Over 75% of them referred to him as Captain Kirk in their requests. The other 25 referred to him as Acting Captain Kirk_ . 

It takes a while for him to latch into what, precisely, it is about the requests is bothering him. Two hours of working through the temporary enterprise crew and its niggling at the back of his brain the way a transporter beam does, buzzing and humming and tickling nerve endings that don’t really exist.

When he does notice the pattern, he laughs out loud because _of course_ that’s what it is, of course this is how it is.

That boy has never been so much but a walking supernova with the gravitational pull of a black hole.

Surprisingly, Spock is no exception. Apparently he's taken to calling Jim _Captain_ , both out of habit and, as far he can tell, out of respect, because contrary to popular belief Vulcans can use names when they feel it’s appropriate.

He can tell it bothers Jim, not the least how casually everyone else around him has accepted his new status. He's always been good at leading and bad at taking credit when he felt it was unwarranted.

Good.

The day Jim Kirk realized how much power he had, the stars themselves would realign.


	3. 4-5-

_ He arranged for Bones to have the best possible position Earth Side as soon as he realized he had the pull. _

The funny thing about people calling you a hero is that suddenly they want to  _ do  _ things for you. (And  _ to  _ you, but that's neither here nor there, or applicable, honestly.)

Like, ask them to take a look at a friend's file and they'll fall all over themselves to take the padd from you. Ask whether they have an opening on the best research base in the federation and they'll murder someone and say  _ sure _ ! while holding a bloody knife. 

It was weird. And useful, but don't tell Bones that. 

Child friendly, family oriented, and a waiting list a mile long because the budget was basically -  _ make it look smart and we’ll give you a circus if you need it _ . God but Bones was going to go fucking wild when he saw this. Jim wondered why that made him want to cry, just a little.

_ Bones punched him when he found out and told him he wasn’t going further than Luna Base One without him. _

If they were being completely honest, (which Jim never was, oh no, you must be at least a level four friend to gain that kind of trust, buddy) (but this was  _ Bones _ , so mostly honest), this was not the first time Bones had punched him. 

It was, however, the first time Jim couldn't figure out  _ why _ . Like, normally he was being an ass, or incredibly annoying, or overly drunk and dumb (or just one of those) and Bones would punch him in the arm, or the side, or slap him upside the head, and tell him to  _ quit being an idiot, jim. _

And that was it.

This though. This was a  _ punch _ . 

“What was that for?” He demanded, suddenly very glad that the park was empty and no one was going to witness (and record, and sell and yes he has very little faith in humanity these days shut up) what looked like a nasty fight. Over fucking what, he’d like to know?

“What is this?” Bones waved a padd in his face, back and forth and and Jim could barely read what it said but he recognized the research stations logo.

He grabbed the padd out of Bones hands. “Oh great, they came through! Did they offer you that grant… oh hey, they even included family housing like I asked…” he rambled off before noticing the look on his best friends face. 

It was not a happy face. 

“Jim.” Bones sounded awfully serious for someone who just got the best ground posting a doctor could hope for. Research grants! Hand picked teams! Free housing and childcare! It was amazing, why did he look like someone kicked his puppy?

“Jim, please tell me you didn't use whatever influence you now have over StarFleet’s finest to get me...that.” He waved at the padd as if it carried a death notice. 

Jim blinked at him, for once feeling completely lost in a conversation. “Bones, I'm not sure if you remember, but you've been talking about this kind of posting for  _ years _ . This is literally what you joined StarFleet for.”

But all he got for his efforts was a terrifying glare and poke in the chest. “Listen kid, if you honestly think I'm going to let you go further than the repair station on Luna-1 without me, you're outta your corn fed mind. I bet you'd find a way to kill yourself before we left the fucking  _ solar system _ if I did.”

Jim tried not to sound a amused, but honestly, Bones just got more southern the angrier he got and the accent was just ... adorable. “Bones, I'm pretty sure you won't  _ let  _ me do  _ anything _ . That's kind of how being captain works.”

Which was apparently the wrong thing to say, because now Bones was actually angry. He thinks. It’s hard to tell when “perpetually grumpy” was the man’s MO. “That is exactly how it works, Jim, because whether you want it or not, I am your doctor, and like hell am I letting one of those bozos over at StarFleet medical near you without making sure they've reviewed your allergies, they'd probably kill you before surgery started with the wrong anesthetic and - “

“Wait wait!” He’d apparently fucked this up again, because friendship was fucking complicated ad he thought he was  _ helping  _ dammit. “Of course I want you as my CMO, hell the medical team I selected is made up of people  _ you  _ recommended! I just - I thought.” he trailed off, suddenly not sure what he’d thought.

Bones snorted. “You thought what? That now that I have half of medical at my feet because of this goddamn  _ tragedy  _ I would swan off into a ground posting and let you leave me behind. Not a chance kid.” he said, clapping a hand on Jim’s shoulder and giving the lopsided grin he always wore when they tried to talk about feelings.

“Whatever you're shit self esteem tells you, I'm going into space because of you and your fucking martyr complex. Now c’mon. I need to review this medical team you speak of.”

Well shit. He hadn't expected that.


	4. 6-

_ He requested a trip to New Vulcan as their first mission, as he believed it would give his crew a sense of closure, and remind them that not everything was lost. _

While the Enterprise had technically gone on her first official mission already, a shakedown cruise was  _ normally  _ supposed to be a basic, almost mundane mission to that would allow the crew and Captain to get used to each other, and the ship.  _ Normally _ . There was that blasted word again.

“Now we have a number of shakedown cruises available. Supplies to the Pisces system, a few diplomats that need transporting -”

“Not that Jon, they're so  _ needy  _ -”

“Good point,  Heihachiro , maybe some star mapping?”

“The Vulcan colony.”

All three admirals turn to face him. Jim looks up from the file he was studying and raises an eyebrow.

“Ok. That was an option.” Admiral Archer says. “I don’t suppose you’ll tell us why?”

Jim leans back, legs folded neatly and worrying his bottom lip in a way Chris recognizes from when he and Winona served together. He has a number of little twitches he shares with her, and it’s always amusing to see them come through.

“Closure. This entire crew was at the battle of Vulcan, they saw a planet, just,  _ disappear  _ into dust. The best way to remind them that life goes on, that there are survivors, that there's  _ hope _ , is to have them deliver supplies and assist the New Vulcan Colony. Even just for a week, it'll help. Trust me.”

“And I suppose you have a psychologist to back you up on that?” It wasn’t a malicious question, on Nogura’s part. Jim had just presented it so simply, so matter-of-fact, that he was curious about where his confidence came from.

Pike still snickered and raised his eyebrows at Jon, who dropped his head in hands with a sigh. Nogura glanced between his face and and Jon’s and the unapologetically sheepish smile on Jim's face and pursed his lips, hiding a grin of his own. 

“You have a degree in psychology.” It wasn't a question. 

“Yes.” Jim said, “but to fair,” he rushed to add, “I never really used it much, and it wasn't from a StarFleet affiliated college either.”

Nogura just looked at him, something like fondness creeping into his eyes. Snapping the padd cover shut, he leaned forward. 

“Alright,  _ Captain.  _ Tell us more about this mission you have planned.” Because of course they trusted that Jim already had it planned out.

Jim grinned and pulled some documents out if the pile. “Of course Admiral.”


	5. 7-

_ He cried when Pike said he’d recommended him as Captain of the Enterprise. _

Chris has seen Jim Kirk cry maybe three times since he was 14 years old and, according to the man himself, at least one of those times didn't count. 

(“I'm sorry Chris but the only people who don't cry during Finding Nemo are psychopaths. Or like, the really really repressed Vulcans. “

“All Vulcans are repressed Jim.”

“Some more then others!”

He had even gotten T'Pol in on it somehow. Which had made Trip honest to God giggle so really how mad could Chris be?)

So watching the kid stand stock still, tears streaming down his face, made Chris feel less like a proud parent and more like a harbinger of doom. 

“You'd think being awarded the Enterprise was a good thing.”

“You..” Jim cleared his throat. “ _ You _ recommended me? After - after everything I did to the ship. And -” 

Oh. 

Ok. He could deal with this. Probably. 

“Jim why wouldn't I recommend you? Your ... _ methods _ might not be exactly what I would expect, but honestly that’s easy to say, sitting here on a planet that only  _ exists  _ because of your actions. You put together all the pieces, figured out what was going on faster than anyone else, all while drugged and out of your mind and in pain. Not to mention you commanded a starship very well, despite your injuries and inexperience. No one reviewing your time as Captain would believe it wasn’t an experienced officer at the helm.”

Chris studied Jim’s face, the way he was biting the inside of his cheek and trying not to let anymore tears fall. Kid was an idiot. Brilliant, sure, and a fantastic Captain, but honestly  _ such  _ an idiot. He blamed George’s genetics for that.

He sighed, and tucked the blanket a little closer. “The truth is, Jim, I’ve known you’ll be taking my place for a long time now.” Jim’s eyebrows crinkled and he tilted his head, confused. “You’re too damn bright, kiddo.” he explained. “No one settles for the stars if the can follow the sun.”

Somehow he ended up with an armful of shaking  ~~Cadet ~~ _ Captain _ , and pretends he isn’t wiping his own tears away. Follow the sun indeed.


	6. 8-

_Winona and Sam and Aurelan and Baby Peter all came to the ceremony. None of them posed for a single press picture._

The day Jim turned seven years old was the first time a reporter thought of tracking him down through non official channels.

Or maybe he wasn’t the first. But he was just the first one that succeeded.

The day Jim turned seven years old his Mom got him a remote control model of a Shen-Zhou shuttle, a strawberry birthday cupcake with xanari frosting and a better answer to why people always looked sad when they spoke about his dad.

He knew his dad was dead. He also knew George looked kinda like him and that he took his mom on motorcycle rides and that he was a hero. He knew his mom only told stories about him that made her laugh and that was ok because that meant his dad had, a long time ago, also made her laugh. He knew other people, the strangers who told him he looked like his daddy and ruffled his hair, only told stories that made them sad, and that’s why his Mom didn’t like when other people told him stories.

He didn’t like it much either.

The day Jim turned seven he got a vintage music player from Sam and Chris and Jon. (Sam told them which music to put on it, Jon and Chris found one and made it work). He got a card from his classmates, signed by all of them and the art teacher.

He got a microphone shoved in his face and question burned into his brain and it would follow him for years.

The day Jim turned seven he learnt that his George Kirk died because of him.

When Winona found out what happened in the ten minutes between Jim wondering off and him running back into her arms, sobbing breathlessly, she wanted to scream. Because the world was cruel and angry and had taken so much from her, and she had never wanted Jim to know that. Not yet. But she had a sobbing seven year old on her lap wanting to know, between gasping breaths and sticky tears, _why don't you hate me_ and she didn't have time to get angry.

_“How does it feel celebrating your birthday on the day your father died? How does it feel knowing he died because of you?”_

The day after Jim turned seven Winona Kirk got a cease and desist that made it very clear that going after any of the Kirk family would only result in a very long, very loud, and very embarrassing campaign by StarFleet to have their press credentials permanently revoked.

The day after Jim turned seven his Mom sat him down and promised him that she could never hate him. The day after Jim turned seven he was sure his Mom lied to him for the first time.

(The day after Jim turned 13 he realized maybe she didn’t. He hoped he had a chance to apologize.)

The day Jim became Captain of the Enterprise, officially, before the eyes of StarFleet and the Admiralty and his family, Winona and Sam and Aurelan put on their dress uniforms and met him on the steps of the Academy, baby Peter toddling around in tiny black dress boots waving a starship plushy and charming everyone who cared to stop.

The press was always invited to these events. It was standard, civilians finding StarFleet as fascinating as ever, and to forbid them from attending would cause a minor scandal.

But not a single reporter approached the Kirk family. Most photographers found their lenses didn't even really work right around them.

There was one, official, StarFleet published family photo that circulated. Winona and Sam and Aurelan and Peter. Captain Kirk and the Admirals Pike and Archer.

And if there was a suspicious flash of light where George Kirk should have been standing...well.

The press knew better then complain.


	7. 9-

_ Gaila was the first engineer he requested. Scotty was the second. _

Archer almost got whiplash from Kirk's response. 

“So who do you want for engineering?”

There's a stack of padds between them and several cups of coffee, tea, and andorian wine scattered on the desk. Nogura, Pike, and Kirk are all in Archers office trying to narrow down the crew rosters in a fashion that won't have the rest of the admiralty complaining. Which is why Archer is here. Nogura usually does this for the flagship or experimental ships, while Pike is here because the Enterprise is still his baby. (And Kirk is still his godson, whether the idiots have discussed that or not).

“Gaila Vro.” Kirk answers, without a thought, and Archer is sure he’s heard that name before.

“The Orion?”

Kirk glares at him and he suddenly remembers that this kid was, for all intents and purposes, raised by Winona Kirk and he should  _ really  _ keep that in mind. When he finally spoke, his voice was low and steady, but it would be impossible to miss the sharp undercurrent of pure anger running through it.

“No. Gaila Vro, who graduated every class at the top of her ranking, _including_ the ones we shared. Gaila Vro, who passed every entrance exam with 105% _at_ _the_ _least_ , after having been self taught for most of her life. Gaila Vro, who, for her senior project, is developing a miniature warp core that will _revolutionize_ smaller spacecraft. 

Yes, Gaila Vro, the  _ Orion _ .”

Archer held his steady,  _ furious _ gaze for a beat before nodding. “I may have deserved that.”

Nogura was wide eyed, glancing at Jim like he was afraid the kid might explode. Instead he nodded back, a calm, “ _ yeah you might have _ ,” his only verbal response. 

Archer looked back down at his padd, pulling up the Ori- _ Gaila’s _ file. “Does she deal with that much?” He asks, glancing up at Jim. 

“Enough.” he answers. “And I want her in my engineering department. Scott's a genius, but she's better.” he says simply.

Archer looks up again. “Good enough to get back my dog?”  

Jim huff's, a mix between a laugh and a snort. “She's already working on it. Last I saw she was giving him a dressing down for using a living, sentient being as a test subject. And” he adds, smirking in that irrepressible way of his, “Scott was too impressed by her work to do anything but take it.”

“Mmm I see.” Archer says, approving his request with no little satisfaction. He may be willing to give Scott a second chance, but he wasn't going to make it easy for him. Having his second in command be someone who would take no shit was definitely a start.


	8. 10-

_ Uhura didn’t give him a choice. She handed him her transfer request over coffee and insulted him in Klingon till he was laughing so hard he almost spilled his tea _

There is, Jim discovers, far more paperwork involved in captaincy than they warn you about. And considering how much they warn about that, it really is saying something _. _

Jim has figured out that if you fill your table with stacks of padds and ask the barista to give you a new tea cup every half hour, and a new coffee every two hours, you can have a nice little office set up with no one bothering you. The occasional greeting from other cadets is just an added and distracting bonus. 

Of course, the idea behind covering the table in padds is that no one actually tried to have a conversation with him. Just a,  _ oh hi Kirk! How’s it going? Damn that’s a lot of work, I’ll leave you to it! _

Uhura, the amazing person that she is, gives zero shits about his diabolical plan and sits down across from him with a cup full of passion fruit iced tea and a padd of her own. 

“Glad to see you’re spending some time outdoors, Kirk.” She says, taking a mildly obnoxious sip of her drink and smiling at him. 

“Well I can't have my lovely tan fading, you know that.” he answers, pretending he doesn't look like an exhausted parent. 

That's it. That's what captaincy is. Parenting with paperwork. And, like, five hundred petulant children, half of which are perpetually going through puberty and the other half who don’t know how to share their toys. 

She hands a padd over the table. “My transfer request.” She says. “I assume you'll approve it by tomorrow? I’ll need to make some arrangements before I pack.”

And this why he loves her, he really does. No bullshit, no flattery, just a simple greeting, a few nice insults, and her request, which came across as more of an order but who was he to complain? 

He looks at the padds, looks at her, and is torn between crying because he knows her paperwork is going to perfect and in triplicate, and he won’t need to fix anything, or telling her she's been approved for three days now. 

He settles on both, handing back the padd and saying in with the straightest face he can manage. “And what are your qualifications?” He asks, maybe 90 seconds from losing it but it’s been so long since he’s pulled her leg. 

She shifts in her seat, placing the padd between them and gives him a long hard look. “I speak all three dialects of Romulan, which saved all our asses.” he nods, trying very hard not to giggle, because she’s taking this as seriously as he is. “That, and I can tell you to -” she lets out a string of Klingon that even he, with his truly terrible accent, can tell is completely inappropriate for a StarFleet officer and a public venue. “-without causing an international incident.” 

He gives up, dissolving into what could technically be classified as the giggles and wipes tears of exhaustion from his eyes. “Mmm yes, that’s definitely a requirement for my Head of Communications.”

He looks up to find Uhura staring at him with wide brown eyes. “Head of...?” 

“Yeah,” he says, pulling a padd out of his pile and handing it over. She flicks it on and stares at the screen. “It would be waste to place you anywhere else, you're overqualified for every position that isn’t Captain, and sadly that’s already been filled.” He grins, “But this is fairly close.”

She swallows, handing the padd back and taking another sip of her tea. “I probably shouldn’t have called you that.” she says slowly.

“Uhura.” He leans over the table, “If you ever stop calling me out on my bullshit, you’re fired.” 

She answers his grin with a wide smile of her own, and cheerfully calls him something that makes him spit out his own tea. 


	9. 11-

_ He found Chekhov reading Tolstoy at Amanda Greyson’s bedside while Ambassador Sarek was in meetings. (Apparently the Ambassador had a habit of adopting children, since Spock accepted his having clearly taken a liking to the Russian Genius with a dryly witty comment that read “oh great, another one”. Jim tried very hard not to laugh about it) Amanda woke up while Chekhov was babbling about “what an honor it will be to be on zhe ship, Keptin!” _

He hadn’t gone looking for Spock. In fact, if he was being honest (at least he was  _ trying _ ) he very purposefully avoided him by accepting every task assigned to him, reports or briefings or even teaching classes as necessary. 

He shouldn't have been surprised at finding him in the hospital. He wasn't, actually. Chekov, however, was a bit of a shock. 

While most of the crew had been released over the last few weeks there were still some that had to stay for observation. Gaila, for one, who had aggravated the original burns on her leg by helping out in engineering over Bones’s  _ multiple  _ protests. Orion skin was complicated, and while she would be fine, she had taken to teasing the nurses and exploiting the endless supply of chocolate pudding.

Amanda Grayson, however, was still in a coma, but the doctors had said she could wake up any day now. He definitely had not hacked any files to figure that out.

Jim had bumped into Sarek at a few different meetings, and knew that one of his crew had taken a shift at her bedside in effort  to comfort the Ambassador when he couldnt be there. He should have guessed it would be Chekov. He could still remember the five seconds of panic, anger, grief that played across the Vulcans face before Chekov had shouted, “ _ She’s back, she’s back, I have her signal! _ ” and Lady Greyson had landed on the transporter pad with a dull thud. 

The kid had always taken things to heart, it was one of the reasons Jim liked him, but he was especially glad he wouldn’t have to live with the guilt of losing her. No one deserved that burden.

He hadn’t planned on staying long, just pop in and check her charts and maybe apologize for ripping into Spock like that while she was still sleeping and not at all terrifying.

Even after thirty years off planet Amanda Greyson was a diplomatic legend. That, and his mothers own academy shenanigans featured “Mandy” often enough that any sane man would be worried.

He leaned against the door watching Chekov wave his hands around as Anna Karenina mocked societies hypocrisies. Jim personally found it a bit heavy for a sick room, but Sarek, who had apparently managed to wiggle out of today's meeting, (as much as Vulcans ever wiggle), seemed to be enjoying it, watching both Chekov and Lady Greyson with a very subtle fondness in his eyes. It was interesting how he changed from fatherly to adoring and back, and Jim wondered if he had somehow  become better at reading Vulcans, or if Sarek was simply too tired to properly regulate his own emotions.

It was a cute little family-like scene. If you ignored the softly beeping monitors and IV patches along her arm. He heard someone come up behind him, pause just outside the doorway like he was. 

“Captain.” they said.

“It’s just Jim, Mr Spock.” he sighed, answering Spock as quietly as he had spoken. He didn’t want to disturb anyone inside the room, and clearly, neither did Spock. He wondered if he had any siblings himself. “It seems Chekov is taking his job very seriously here.” He continued, hoping to keep this light. As light as a conversation in a hospital room could be, that is.

“He is an excellent Officer.” Spock said, agreeing with him. “Unlike Vulcans, humans respond to outside stimulus during healing comas. My father appreciates his efforts very much.”

Jim smiled, watching Sarek hand Chekov a cup of water as he paused his Russian epic. “He seems to have taken a liking to our resident wunderkind. No doubt a consequence of being a teacher for the VSA.” In Jim’s experience, professors adored Chekov. Something about his wide eyed enthusiasm and respect. They never guessed he was a also a viscous prankster and sarcastic little shit. 

Spock huffed in what could almost be classified as amusement, and said in the flattest tone Jim had ever heard, “Or perhaps my father simply attempts to adopt every intelligent child he has the pleasure of meeting.”

Jim laughed, the idea of Sarek surrounded by adopted children a vivid concept he couldn't help but picture. Chekov turned in his chair and leapt to his feet. “Captain!”, Sarek nodded from his seat, eyes sliding over Jim's shoulder to Spock, and again, either Sarek was over tired or Jim was, because he could have sworn the vulcan smiled. “Spock,” he said calmly.

“Sa-mekh” Spock answered. Chekov shuffled awkwardly at the side of the bed, side-eyeing Sarek and Spock and finally facing Jim and blurting out “I have received my commission, sir! It will be an honor to serve on zhe ship with you -” before turning bright red and clamping his mouth shut. 

“I must congratulate you, Mr. Kirk, on retaining such an excellent officer for your crew.” Sarek said, obviously amused, in his own vulcan way, at Chekhov's enthusiasm. Chekov, if it was possible, turned an even darker shade of red. Behind him he could swear Spock whispered, “not another one”, but his eyes were on the monitor, and the fluttering of Lady Amanda’s eyelashes.

“And I must congratulate you, Ambassador Sarek, on the accomplishments of your son. It was an honor to serve with him.” He clapped a hand on Chekhov's shoulder, drawing him out of the room even as he heard the doctors responding, thundering down the hall, “and on the recovery of your wife.” he smiled as Chekov practically bounced down the hall, vibrating with excitement. 

“Live long and Prosper.”


	10. 12-13-14-15-

_ Spock never formally applied. Jim never formally requested him. No one realized this until three years later. No one cared. _

Chris and him were enjoying a drink over comm-call when he mentioned it. It was somehow relevant to the conversation, he’s sure, but the whiskey was very good, and he’s lucky he remembers most of the conversation at all.

“You know we needed some paperwork re-filed recently - “ Jim groans, dropping his head onto his desk with a soft thunk. Paperwork makes him believe in the devil. Chris laughs, “Don’t worry, nothing you need to worry about. We just noticed that Spock is technically not on board the Enterprise.”

Jim squints at the screen, and than at his cup. Nope, still half full. Chris is definitely the one not making sense. “While I’d love to prove you wrong, I’m not risking the wrath of my comms officer just to prove that Spock is definitely on board. I just got off shift with him for Apollo’s sake.” 

Chris chuckled, waving away Jim’s perfectly reasonable denial with an open hand. “I said technically. All the paperwork regarding his transfer was done through memos and verbal requests. So  _ technically  _ the request was never made,  _ technically  _ he was never approved, and  _ technically  _ he’s not on board the Enterprise.”

Jim shook his head at all the technicalities, trying to understand what Chris was getting at. 

“So, what? Do we turn around and return the Vulcan officer we  _ technically  _ kidnapped and gang pressed into serving?” he was amused at the idea, wondering what that conversation would even look like.

Chris shook his head, “No one wants to split you two up, I think they’re scared of what you would do. They’ll just backdate a transfer form or some shit, don’t worry about it.”

Jim snorted, taking another drink. “Typical StarFleet. All that drama and it turns out he shouldn’t even be here. Well,” he says, raising his glass, “I’m glad he  _ technically  _ snuck on board and stowed away.” He smirked, knowing Chris would appreciate the joke.

“To stowaways.” Chris laughed, “And the ridiculous amount of times they’ve saved my ass.”

_ They started playing chess while discussing ships repairs. _

There was always a chess board set up in rec room three. On every StarFleet ship Jim’s been on, and it’s a fair amount, there’s been a chess board in rec room three. It’s a weird thing to keep consistent about ship design, if they’re being honest, but Jim thinks it’s some sort of aesthetics thing. Also, it’s amazing how that thing never breaks or disappears, despite how much shit a ship goes through. 

Maybe it’s a temporal physics thing. Keep one thing consistent, a docking port or whatever. A portkey, of sorts.

Damn he needs sleep.

Spock is reading a report Jim handed him about the E Deck repairs and looks up when Jim moves the white pawn, almost subconsciously, listing all the repairs that haven’t yet been completed in his head. He studies the board for a moment, and moves a black piece. 

“I see most of the engine repairs are complete, Captain.” He’s getting better at reading Spock’s tone, or maybe all the late night’s are actually getting to the Vulcan. He sounds pleasantly surprised, placing his pawn in a move that Jim instantly recognizes.

Not that he’s gonna say that. “Yeah, we’re still at impulse, but at least it’s all working as it should. Gaila insisted on helping out down there to, so the bypasses are probably neater then they need to be, and will be way easier to take down.” He moves another piece, wondering if Spock learned chess from his mother. Vulcans usually had their own strategy games they preferred, although chess was pretty popular with them too.

_ Jim won almost 64% of the time. He thinks this is when Spock actually starts liking him. _

“Check in three moves,” he said while scrolling through the next report. “I think we should work on the main mess hall next. Over half the replicators there aren’t working right - “ he looks up to find Spock staring at the board with a predictably blank face. “Mr Spock. Is everything all right?”

Spock nodded, one hand tapping the table while the other worried his lip. He looked up at Jim with what could  _ almost  _ be a smile, a quirk of the lips and a sharp eyebrow raised, as his eyes studied Jims. “Fascinating”, he murmured, moving a piece at random.

“The secondary mess halls, and the officers mess, have all been compensating adequately, do you believe we need to repair all of the replicators, Captain?”

“Yes.” Jim said tersely, moving his bishop. He sighed, rubbing a hand over his face. “We don’t need to sacrifice energy for speed anymore, the repaired units won’t be putting a strain on the engines, and a fed crew is a calm crew.” Spock nodded, although Jim wasn’t sure he was even concentrating on the reports now.

“Check”, he said, almost apologetically. Spock probably wasn’t used to losing.

“Fascinating,” he murmured again, and Jim knew he wasn’t imagining that smirk.

_ Spock actually started liking him when he allowed him back onto the bridge after almost strangling him. He never expected that level of forgiveness from James Kirk. _

Spock has come to expect certain behaviors from other species. Andorians are aggressive, but also loyal and respect intelligence, Betazoids are compassionate, but also set in their beliefs and almost chronically blunt. Categorically, no one species was more difficult to interact with than any other. They simply required a different approach.

Humans, somehow, had multiple behaviors, none of which could be categorized as simply as other species. He long suspected it came from both being part human and growing up with human siblings. He was too close to the matter to objectively categorize their actions. Or perhaps humans, for all their reckless and illogical pursuits, were more complex than they were given credit for.

But he has not expected this. This, total,  _ trust  _ despite his previous actions, this,  _ forgiveness  _ granted to him the moment he made his presence known on the bridge.

He had been provoked, yes. He will not deny that. He had been pushed to the very edge of his control, but Vulcans prided themselves on control.  _ He  _ prided himself on his control.

He had been pushed to the very edge of his control, perhaps, but he would be lying if he claimed he didn’t leap over the edge with a savage enthusiasm that shook him to the core of his beliefs.

He could  _ feel _ , the  _ panic, anger, death _ , breathing over him, Kirk’s mind muddling the waters of his own, bleeding through his fingertips as he tried to  _ stop  _ this  _ child  _ from speaking. His anger was so complete he almost didn’t notice that the emotions weren’t his own. And through it all he felt a inexplicable sense of peace, of calm acceptance and  _ regret _ , rise up softly and whisper,  _ it’s all right. _

He had broken his hold a moment before his father had called his name. Half a second of horror at the forgiveness he saw in shining blue eyes, and he had rushed off the bridge. He was unused to understanding like this.

His mother lay in sickbay. She could not help him with this.

His father had offered support and a place to meditate, but he also understood what Spock needed to do. 

He expected a cold shoulder and an order to report to the brig. He deserved it, no less. But instead he received a welcoming smile and a respect he could not remember earning and a place among these brilliant minds.

Captain Kirk had been correct, of course. The calculations perfect, his prediction of the Romulans plans nearly prophetic. 

And Spock, now, could understand why Andorians believed loyalty could only be earned in battle. He disagreed, finding a man’s actions during peace to be far more revealing, but he could understand.

And in a way, perhaps, had proved it himself.


	11. 16-

_ Jim uses Pikes status as a hero of the Narada incident and newly minted Admiral to get him aboard for their maiden voyage. He makes sure he’s on the bridge when they take off. _

“Quiet a view isn’t it?” He said, coming up behind Jim. 

“Yeah. It really is.” Around them preparations were being finished, the flagship finally ready for her  ~~ maiden voyage ~~ shakedown cruise.  The regular pre-flight bridge chatter is settling into a distant hum around them.

He’s gonna miss this.

The view screen is facing Earth, sunrise just visible over the curving blue sky, the African continent peeking through the clouds. The stars are just visible beyond that, and the vast unending spread of the universe can still take his breath away. He can see Jim from the corner of his eye, blue eyes reflecting the stars in a brilliant array, and he’s once again struck by how ridiculous it was, that idea that this man could ever belong anywhere but here. Facing the stars head on, daring the universe to come join him.

“It’s beautiful.” Jim whispers. 

“It never gets old, kid.” He was gonna miss this. But at least he was here now. One last chance, boldly going.


	12. 17-

_ He can’t sleep more than three hours in a row before he starts dreaming of the ship falling through a black hole. He reads crew files and ship reports when he wakes up from nightmares. _

It’s an odd routine, this system that he has, that he’s charted over the years.

Convince yourself, (or get convinced), to go to sleep.  _ Step one _ .

Fall asleep quickly, because you've been pushing this off for too long and your body is  _ this _ _.  _ _ close _ _.  _ to giving up.  _ Step two _ .

Wake up screaming.  _ Step three _ . 

Repeat as deemed necessary.

He’s just glad the walls are soundproof. There’s no need to inform anyone on board that their Captain can’t sleep more than three hours before dissolving into a screaming mess. 

It will pass. He’s sure of it. It always does. And how fucked up is that, that he has a similar experience to compare this to, that he can say “no this is  _ normal _ , I’ll know when my reactions are extreme.”

His therapist is going to kill him, he’s sure. Verbally, he hopes, but she’s never taken his bullshit before, he hopes she won’t start now.

_ How many genocides can one person witness? _ He remembers asking her that. Desperate for reassurance that it was  _ one _ , it was only ever  _ one _ .

He regretted his inexplicable ability to prove her wrong.

He never fell back asleep. It was over for the night, he knew that, but for some reason he couldn't quite drag himself out of his warm sheets, not yet. He could always read over those reports while laying in bed. Multitasking and all. Then he could even tell Bones he’d spent all night in bed and not be lying.

He pulled a padd off the nightstand and adjusted the view port controls. Under the purpling lights of warp speed and rushing stars he settled in for a long night. 


	13. 18-19-

_ He meets every crew member individually, asks them about their family, academy history, special interests, hobbies, and what they would like to work on most while aboard. He assigns them departments based on that, over recommendations based on test result. _

It takes Kirk maybe two days to learn everyone's name, an unholy combination of sleep deprivation, guilt, and hyper-curiosity. By the time they dock at Earth everyone on board has spoken to him at least once, and no one is really surprised he knows their names and departments. They’ve come to expect a bit of the impossible in everything he does now.

It takes Kirk almost double the time it should to confirm his crew roster. By the time three weeks have passed, even Chris is getting confused. Traditionally, Captains spent maybe two weeks on the crew roster, if not passing it on the department heads completely and washing their hands of it.

Of course there was nothing wrong with Jim taking his time. The Enterprise wouldn’t be shipping out for at a least month, and Captain's prerogative said his crew only needed to be confirmed three weeks prior to launch. He still had time.

Chris was curious though. He and Archer were supposed to meet Jim for lunch, and to discuss some more details of the Vulcan Colony’s requests. Jim was more familiar with Vulcan culture then most, due to his hopelessly curious nature, but protocol still demanded it. And besides, it never hurt to be careful.

Jim walks in exactly two minutes before 12, take out and drinks in hand. Jon makes grabby hands over the desk, because apparently a hungry Admiral is worse than a toddler.

Jon is also as subtle as a Tellarite when he’s hungry, because barely three bites in he asks Jim, point blank, “So how’s the crew roster coming along?”

Jim swallows his salad and takes a sip of his iced tea. “Fine. I’m almost done the placement interviews, so probably another day or so.” He fixes his attention back on his salad, not noticing the confused glances the two Admirals exchange. 

“Placement Interviews.” Jon asks. 

“Yeah.” Jim says waving his fork. “You know, I ask them about their specialties, their interests, why they want to serve on the Enterprise. I try to get them to talk about their families too, it’s important to know who their leaving behind.” He’s still oblivious to the shock on their faces. 

“Jim, there are over 400 personnel assigned on the Enterprise.” Chris says. 

“Yeah…?” Jim finally realizes something's going on. “Is there a problem, with me interviewing them? I try to have the department head present too, it helps with placement.”

“Jim”, Archer takes a deep breath. “There are placement questionnaires and tests exactly for that reason.”

Jim nods and then jabs a fork in his direction. “Sure but those are hardly personalized. Just because someones test says they should be at point A doesn’t mean they aren’t more interested in Point B. And if they get assigned A, they’ll be good at it, but they wont enjoy it as much and statistically those are the ones who ask for a transfer. So you lose an experienced crewman just because of a standard procedure.” 

He shrugs, still waving a fork around. Chris is worried he’ll take an eye out. “Besides I want to know who I’m serving with, and they all want to know what asshole will be giving them dumb orders.”

Typical. The kid is extraordinary and treats like it’s normal.

_ The crew displays an almost 12% higher efficiency rate because of it. _

Chris is the first to admit that Jim’s method, while unnecessary and frankly exhausting, did appear to have a surprisingly pleasant effect on moral. Every crew member came aboard knowing that the Captain knew them by name, and had a personal hand in their placement and assignments. 

Now that he thinks about it, the effect on moral isn't surprising at all.

What was surprising, however, was the year end report that came in, right around the same time Enterprise was scheduled for a brief shoreleave, and upgrade, and possibly a five year mission.

How to “score” a Starships efficiency and stability has long been a topic with no little controversy behind it. Like Jon said - you can't tell a ship to patrol the neutral zone and then complain it got into to many fire fights, and you can't have a ship explore new worlds without a few broken bones and allergic reactions.

It was a fairly complicated system involving crew, medical, and security reports. Which experiments where running, what was discovered, response time during incidents, it all built up on itself in a series of statistical analysis that made his head spin.

But every admiral is given the end of year rankings with a brief explanation as to why this ship was graded as such, and every Admiral who served as Starship liaison spent a few weeks trying to change things before admitting that it was up to the Captain, and that in most cases, a Starship was a delicate ecosystem they couldn't afford to disrupt, lost bets or not. Most of the time troublesome personnel were transferred, or retrained, and the admirals washed their hands of all of it.

Still, having the Enterprise be in the top five, and be declared 12% more efficient than any other starship currently out in the black, came as a surprise. Despite its crews inexperience, and despite the skepticism of his colleagues about Kirk’s abilities, it appeared he’d shown them all up. 

Chris really shouldn't be surprised. He looks forward to Archer being insufferable about this.


	14. 20

_ StarFleet calls the Enterprise “it’s most efficient flagship in over a century”. Archer calls him smugly about once week. Pike calls twice a week. _

Subspace communications are a tricky thing, and while Jim might complain (it wasn’t  _ whining _ , Bones,  _ shut up _ ) about how often the Enterprise was told to stick close to home, he was glad that they did. It allowed more frequent comms between HQ and the Enterprise, and he found that being able to call people he trusted for advice was a great comfort during his first year as captain.

It was a little awkward, the first time he commed his mother and asked her for advice on handling engineering disputes, instead of just the usual small talks and disaster stories. But he got over it quickly, deciding his pride wasn’t worth the respect of his crew. 

Jon commed him three weeks in, about a report that had some the Admirals confused. It keep happening, and Jim is... surprised maybe. Not upset though. It’s nice, having all these people who watched him grow up, reaching out, offering backup and support and advice when he wants it.

It's nice knowing he doesn't have to do this alone.

Of course, Archer calls him mostly for gossip and an excuse to dish on all the Admiralty politics. Jim doesn’t mind, remembering the good humored man who used to give the best birthday presents, dragging his vulcan first officer and her legendary engineer of a husband with him. (Maybe Jim had always had a predilection for vulcans and southern gentleman).

Pike commed more often, and despite lifetime of trying to prove he could do it all alone, Jim found that between the three of them, his mother and honorary uncle and something of a godfather, he no longer felt like he needed to.

He no longer wanted to.


	15. +1.

_ He sleeps better in the stars. _

Oddly enough, it's Sam who notices it first. Or maybe not so odd after all, since he's been crashing on his couch more often these days.

Its an accidental discovery, which is maybe not the normal kind, but everything else about his life feels like one big cosmic accident so why not his mental health as well?

Sam, being an honest-to-artemis adult with a wife and a job and a future that does not consist of, “ _ maybe I'll work on Pikes ship maybe I'll get punched out behind the bar maybe I'll get another PHD just to fuck with StarFleet, it's just another piece of paper anyways, IDK _ ”, buys glow in the dark paint and rents a projector and - get this, Jim has never seen anything this adorable in his  _ life  _ \- paints the constellations on his dining room ceiling. Complete with a paint fight and a “oh god did we put the big dipper  _ there _ ?” moment. They say it’s a practice run before they start the nursery, but Jim thinks that’s just an excuse to do it twice.

Jim is sitting on the dining room table, covered in plastic sheets and laughing his ass off because Aurie just hit Sam smack on the nose with a spot of paint, when he looks up and sees the stars. Its daylight, and messy, but he hasn't felt this …  _ content  _ since. Well. Since a really long time, let’s go with that.

He still has nightmares. Like, this isn't a miracle, he still wakes up gasping for air, but opening his eyes and seeing the not quite perfect constellations on the ceiling...helps. It does.

He mentions it to Sam, in the middle of a completely unrelated conversation with no warning because he's a coward but he knows his brother will get a kick out of it. And his brother just nods and goes “Mmm-hmmm,” as if he knew, as if he fucking knew, but the next time he comes around there's a hammock out in the yard, a clear awning hanging over it and a waterproof blanket and pillows and a crooked sign that says “Captains Quarters”, because Sams a fucking nerd and it's an exact replica of the one they snuck off the Shen Zhou that one time and Winona pretended not to notice but he's 99% certain she sent a picture of it hanging on their door to Georgeou. 

He moves into his dorm at the academy on a Tuesday, which is as normal as you can get, standard sheets and empty walls and his roomate is some wide eyed kid who ends up needing help on his computer sciences assignment and then ends up on his exo-biology team four years later.

It isn't until the next year, two dorms and three roomates later, (Henry was a good kid, but his cousin joined up and wanted someone familiar, Gary was an Ass, capitol A, and deserved that prank, Finnegan was… No.) that his brother showed up. He had visited before, but never had enough time to lounge around Jims room looking smug and smelling faintly of air freshener. 

“So you cleaned my room for me? Aurelan trained you so well.” He dumps his briefcase on a chair and yanks his uniform over his head.

Sam’s already seen all his scars.

He just laughs and tugs Jim out of the room, insisting he show him around campus, as if he hasn't seen it for himself a dozen times.

It isn't until later that night, when Bones stumbles into their room, lights off, for a padd he left behind and looks up that he realizes what his brothers done.

The ceiling is covered in stars - maybe not the right ones, but the constellations they would find over the barn in Iowa, laying on the roof with their Ma at 4:00 am because you could see Venus without a telescope today. 

“Is that even allowed”, Bones asked, voice soft and slightly awed.

“I don't think Sam cares.” Jim whispers back.

Jim doesn’t either.

 

* * *

 

It isn't until years later, after the Kobayashi Maru and the Narada and the absolute shit show that was PR and repairs and  _ commendations  _ that the Enterprise is ready for her shakedown cruise. Her real shakedown cruise, not some horror show that was the battle of Vulcan.

Jim wakes up facing the open window, stars streaming by in a never ending parade of  _ galaxies  _ no one has ever seen. The warp trails shine silver and a purple that he doesn't think anyone has ever seen on earth, golden and peach and bright.

He lay awake, facing the viewport for a moment, frozen by the rapidly dancing stars he knows are reflected perfectly in his eyes. He’s known it for years, the effect space has had on him, the pull of getly growing nebula and ever changing galaxies. But somehow, he’s just never realized how much better he would sleep among the stars.

**Author's Note:**

> Thanks for reading!


End file.
